Page 49 of Beckon

They stayed that way for a while, her listening to his heart and him staring at the top of her head.

Chandler sat down on the edge of the bed, bringing Tami with him. Her cheek never leaving his chest. He shut his brain off as best he could and focused on her breathing.

After a while, it became slow and deep. He thought she might’ve fallen asleep. It wasn’t until she mumbled,I missed you,that he was sure she had.

Her words sparked a stinging in his eyes and a niggling in the back of his mind.

He’d heard those words before.

From her.

It had been when he was swimming to the surface, trying to return to her. And she’d been calling out to Reese.

That revelation broke him. All he wanted was to be better for her and she missedhim.

Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. The need to run and scream and rail came back with a vengeance.

When he looked down at her sleeping, angelic face, he smiled. He owed her everything. She’d saved him. Saved him from tasting lead with an aspirin, a glass of water, and a note about the smell in his closet. He couldn’t fault her for where her heart lay. His smile turned sad when he realized he’d never wake up to her cooking breakfast. Or tuck Chester into bed again. He would even miss Harold telling him he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.

He’d never hear her sayI love you.

But he would make peace with it. She deserved everything in life and then more. If he wasn’t the man to give it to her, he wouldn’t stand in the way of her finding him. Even though the thought ripped his heart from his chest, he wouldn’t begrudge her the life and family she craved.

As gently as possible, he turned and placed her on the bed, tucking her in much the way she had him. When he kissed her forehead, he lingered too long. Her green eyes fluttered open and locked on to his.

“Why did that feel like a kiss goodbye?”

She knew.

“I love you, Tamitha. More than I ever thought I could love anyone. That is a fact that will never change.” He pulled his pants on and slipped his shirt over his shoulders but didn’t button it. “But above all else I want you to be happy. No matter what that looks like.”

She sat up in the bed, clinging to the sheet he’d just placed over her. Chandler picked up his shoes by the door and gave her one last, lingering look, before breaking eye contact. “But I can’t compete with a dead man. I can’t spend every night in a crowded bed. I don’t know how to do that, not even for you.”

He choked on the words. Staring at the door, he willed his hand to lower the handle, but it wouldn’t. Silently he begged his muscles to obey. She was getting closer and if she touched him, he knew he’d stay. He’d live forever with her ex-husband sleeping between them. It would be a new kind of torture.

Her hand landed on his back. The touch gentle and soft. Her smell engulfed him. He chanced a look over his shoulder, she was clinging to the sheet above her breasts and just staring between his shoulder blades where her hand rested. Like she could stare through to his heart.

“Chandler. Reese will always be a part of my life, Chester’s life, and yours. You knew that from the start. He’s the father of my son. A little boy you love building blanket forts with and challenging to noodle duels to save imaginary fair maidens. To deny him is to deny Chester, and I know you’d never, ever do that. It’s not in you. But he isn’t your competition.”

Chandler sighed at her words and tears leaked from the inner corners of his eyes. Tami was right, he was actually grateful to the man. If not for him there would be no Chester and who knows where Tami would be. Maybe married to someone else and living in another state.

But that gratitude did not—could not—extend but so far. “I know, and I am grateful to him. Really, angel, I am, but I can’t hold you at night knowing you long for his touch when you’re in my arms. I can’t stand to hear you crying out because you miss him, begging him to come back to you. Please, don’t ask me to do that.”

A sob broke free. One he didn’t realize was on the surface. The last time he cried like that was for Wilson, and even that didn’t claw at his soul the same way.

“Chandler, look at me, please.”

When he turned, he kept a white-knuckle grip on his shoes. If he didn’t, he would pull her into his arms. If he did that, they would end up back in bed, which would only hurt them both more in the long run. He had to be strong.

Tami let go of the sheet to hold his face. Her tight grip was at war with her soft words. “It was you I missed. The you from before you fell asleep. It was you I was begging to return to me. Chandler, it’s you I love. Do you understand that? I love you.”

Her words were exactly what he needed to hear, coupled with what he longed to hear. So why was he not relieved? Maybe because the truth was there all along. It was as if he knew with his soul she meant him, then why—

The thoughts warring in his head shattered when she dropped her hands and retrieved the sheet. Wrapping it around her body like armor.

“But you are right about one thing. There is a dead man in our bed. Maybe more than one, but it’s not Reese. I can’t fix the overcrowding issue, babe, only you can.”

She looked sad and broken, much like him. Chandler slid down the back of the door, still gripping his shoes. His legs were splayed and his body somewhat relaxed except for the death grip on the damn shoes. It was like they anchored him.

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